


within the hourglass

by youngjo



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: ATEEZ Storytelling Event, Fragmented Storyline, Gen, Magical Elements, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:34:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25194748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngjo/pseuds/youngjo
Summary: “I am your captain, and this is your call.” The hourglass glowed brighter, the sand within beginning to flow up. “Together, we are Ateez.”
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	within the hourglass

**Author's Note:**

> heyo! just thought I'd post my entry onto my ao3 as well!

It began with a dream.

Simultaneously, within all of them, scattered throughout a world they had only just begun living in.

The same dream with the same light, calm and inviting—it called to all of them, but the words whispered in the dead of night were different for each one. 

It spoke of adventures far beyond their mundane lives, of high seas and full moons on the horizon. It spoke of battles lost among the flow of time, of glorious treasures and the spoils of those who came before them. Above all, it spoke of a bond. The red thread of fate, binding them together, eight hearts beating as one; a shared dream for something even they did not know the gravity of.

It began with a dream and from that point forward, none of them could ignore the call. They tried, going about their lives and ignoring the shadows nipping at their heels, until the dreams grew ever louder.

Finally, with determination that flooded over them, they answered the call.

///

Seonghwa’s came beneath a sun-swallowed sky, hand cold despite the rays of light upon it. The bracelet clutched within his palm carried weeks of memories, of pain and happiness alike. It had been left behind, just as he had.

Here, in a moment of clarity, Seonghwa understood.

A breeze pulled at his clothes, the urge to walk sudden and sharp, and Seonghwa allowed it to guide him. Each step pulled him closer and closer to the horizon, the sun sinking lower beneath the trees.

He reached his destination with an exhale carrying years of resolve, eyes landing upon a singular man seated upon a park bench. Their eyes met across the way and Seonghwa’s steps came to a halt, memories of lives he knew were his own washing over him. He carried the warmth of sands from a faraway land, eyes containing years of experience far beyond what Seonghwa would ever know. Most importantly, he felt like home.

Somehow, without an ounce of recognition or even knowing his name, Seonghwa knew he was the key.

///

Yunho had grown up with a vague sense of something wrong his entire life. Something felt different, or off, like he was constantly on the precipice of a tremendous cliff. He hovered there from the moment he could identify the feeling prickling at his heels, waiting for the thing that would finally push him over the edge.

Walking home from work one night, going about his usual routine, it happened. 

Clutching his phone tightly, the message upon the bright screen blurred as the world around him went askew. His body was floating but his mind became acutely aware of everything around him. The people, the voices, the buildings—all of it. 

It came with a whisper, feather-light and full of energy, and Yunho’s head raised into the distance. All around him, people continued about their evening, passing by his body as if he wasn’t even there. The whisper grew louder, until it roared in his ears with stories of a life he barely knew, until a single word rose to the surface.

_ Run. _

Yunho listened, feet propelling him down the concrete, wind tearing at his face. He ran until his legs burned with pain and his heart hammered heavily within his chest. 

He knew not where he was going but Yunho knew he had reached his destination the moment he saw them. In the back of his mind, a flicker of recognition raced through him. One sat upon a park bench, the other in a similar disheveled state, he was the second to arrive, bringing time hot on his heels and the beginnings of memories from their lives once lived.

///

Yeosang had grown used to life throwing him challenge after challenge. Nothing he had came easily and he had clawed his way to the top more often than not. He had grown used to hearing people tear him down but he had never let it stop him nor deter him from his goals. 

His eyes became glued to the concrete below. He didn’t dare look up, afraid what little dreams he did have would be snatched the same way everything else had been. Yeosang grew used to finding comfort in sidewalk cracks and forgotten daisies. They were like him, weathered by time and forgotten easily by those in passing.

Yeosang couldn’t remember what compelled him to look up. It came with an unsettled stomach and a hum of energy within the sidewalk, his steps grinding to a halt so quickly someone nearly crashed into him. He whispered a hasty sorry before his head craned back, jaw growing slack until he was staring in open-mouthed awe at the sky above. Somehow, despite the city lights obscuring the night sky, he could see it clearly.

A map, formed by the stars twinkling above.

The sky was different just for him, Yeosang’s heartbeat thrumming in his ears as something called for him to follow. For the first time in years, he felt rejuvenated; he felt alive. 

Unsure where the stars were taking him, Yeosang followed. Despite knowing he had begun his journey at midnight, he arrived just as the sun cast its final rays of light around him.

Yeosang set foot within the park and the stars above vanished in an explosion of light, leaving him there with three strangers—except, his mind whispered familiarity. 

He was the third to arrive.

///

San was used to the constant shift of tides. He moved constantly, dragged from location to location, forced to create a new life he knew would be stolen from beneath him at a moment’s notice. He was apathetic towards it now, knowing that whatever he attempted to forge may be lost within the flow of time once more.

When it grew closer to six months in one location, San grew to expect his roots being torn from the earth below.

And, like clockwork, it happened.

Packed into another moving truck under the heat of a summer afternoon, everything he’d built the past few months was stolen once more. Put into a tiny box, compartmentalized, and labeled from another location—a string of boxes he would never open, containing the fragments of memories he’d accumulated from the string of houses left behind. 

He accepted it until the day something changed.

The sun burned hot overhead but San felt cooler than ever. He felt at peace, like he knew things were about to change, and as the mover hopped into the truck to start it, he made his choice.

San threw the door open and ran, his legs burning and sweat stinging his eyes. A breeze rose with him, giving him the energy he needed to continue, a hum within his body turning to a thundering gasp as he responded to the call.

He nearly ran into someone as he arrived, stumbling over their feet and landing upon the ground. His eyes cast to the sky, the atmosphere around him changing to night despite the sun shining only moments before. 

It was the first time he became aware of their disconnect from reality.

A hand was offered in his direction, and San realized the one offering it looked familiar. Somehow, he knew he could trust him.

He too had responded to the call.

///

Sitting on the floor of his room, bouncing a ball between himself and the wall, Mingi was simply going through the motions. He’d been there awhile, just staring blankly as he contemplated what had led him to that point. 

His dreams had never been bigger than the room he was seated in. Everything he’d ever wanted had been labeled with a pricetag or with the amount of effort it would take to get. All around him people spoke of broken dreams and disappointment, until Mingi himself began to believe that all he had grown up wanting could never be reality. 

He’d lost track of how many times the ball had bounced from the wall and back again. It felt so robotic, his body moving on its own even though his mind screamed for something to change. 

Bouncing the ball once more, he caught in, arm trembling the force behind it. Mingi let it sit there, just staring at the place it had once been, before his body went on autopilot once more. Using his bed, he pulled himself to his feet and allowed whatever strange force had flooded into his limbs to guide him. Down the stairs, out the door, and along the street—Mingi followed without an inkling of fear. 

More than anything, he felt … hopeful. As if everything was about to change.

Time seemed to warp then, the people around him not moving even as he walked. Mingi briefly wondered if he had fallen asleep and everything around him was a dream, but he could hear every scrape of his shoes upon the ground. 

Though it took minutes, it felt as if only seconds had passed before he reached his destination. He stepped into the park as a strange feeling washed over him, exhaling a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Before him stood others, people he had never seen before, regarding each other with the same wonder bubbling within himself.

Mingi knew everything was about to change.

///

Wooyoung often ended up there, hiding away from the reasons for his strife. It was quiet in the attic of his home, tucked away from the anger and negative feelings below. He spent plenty of time up there just staring at himself in the mirror. His own face, blank and devoid of answers for his many questions. There were many things he disliked, mostly about himself and the life he was stuck living. 

Above all, he hated his choices.

He had given up everything to be with his friends. His dreams, his achievements, his home … all to move out and experience life with people who claimed to love him. Wooyoung had always had that problem. Loving too much with too little given in return. He had sacrificed everything for so little in return. 

Wooyoung lifted his hand, pressing it against the glass. His eyes, devoid of spark, stared back at him. 

As he watched, the glass seemed to ripple. He blinked, wondering if he had imagined it, before it happened again. His reflection quivered from the edges of the mirror, waves traveling through it to where they pooled around his hand. Wooyoung watched, entranced, even though he knew he should pull it away. Before, suddenly, a burst of light forced his eyes to snap shut.

When Wooyoung dared look again, he was no longer within the attic. 

He was outside beneath the night sky, clutching something warm within his hands. A ball of light, bright and burning. 

Wooyoung gasped and let it go, the light floating into the air. Despite not knowing what it was, he felt compelled to follow. Pushing himself to his feet, he watched the orb float a few steps away. Wooyoung took a step after it, the orb going further; just out of reach but enough to be seen. He followed it until it stopped. The light grew larger before exploding into nothingness, forcing his eyes to snap shut a second time.

When they reopened, he was standing on the edge of a park. Wooyoung’s gaze raised, landing upon a gathering within the park. Softly, he gasped.

Deep down, he knew he was home.

///

Jongho was different from the rest of them.

He had met him once a long time ago. Just a passing meeting, a conversation on a park bench about things Jongho had been convinced were stories.

Hongjoong was nice but even as a young teenager Jongho could tell he was an old soul. He had seen many things and his body contained the wisdom of a thousand lifetimes, weighing him down yet kept at bay all at once. Hongjoong spoke of lifetimes they had lived through together, back when they were pirates roaming the seven seas and another time where they took up arms alongside each other. Eight hearts, beating as one, stuck within a loop of time that had cast seven of them into a cycle of endless regeneration.

A curse, Hongjoong explained, brought on by a source they had yet to discover. Hongjoong had been given immortality; the rest of them had been doomed to be reborn for however long it took to break it. He had spent a long time gathering them over and over again. Some lifetimes they had already perished, doomed to throw their meetups out of sync for another span of time. Some lifetimes they refused to talk with him at all.

Hongjoong carried a burden upon him, one they knew only knew from stories rather than living.

Still, Jongho had not believed him in the beginning.

Not until Hongjoong’s visits grew less and less, until he too disappeared from Jongho’s life. Suddenly, the stories he had shared changed into dreams. Jongho was there with the people Hongjoong had told him about, living through each life that had been shared with him—and even more beyond that.

Jongho searched and searched for him but Hongjoong had effectively vanished.

He was gone … until the day Jongho felt a pull.

Subtle at first, before it grew into an ache that refused to go away, pulling at him with intensity. Jongho answered, following it until he returned to the very park he had first met Hongjoong.

Seated upon the same bench, something glowing within his palm, Jongho began to believe.

///

Hongjoong rose as Jongho, the final of eight, arrived. His gaze traveled between their faces, a variety of emotions staring back at him.

Above all, there was hope, determination, excitement—and realization.

Hongjoong raised the hourglass within his hands, the light within growing brighter. It was the key, the reason they were all there, why the call had gone out in the first place. The entire reason for their existence, contained in a single glass contraption full of sand. Capable of turning back time, of returning them to the point where it all began—the way to break their curse for good.

He had been reunited with his crew from hundreds of years ago, back when they prowled the seven seas and were feared far and wide.

Here, it was only the eight of them, red thread binding them together, hearts beating as one.

Hongjoong held out the hourglass. “I am your captain, and this is your call.” The hourglass glowed brighter, the sand within beginning to flow up. “Together, we are Ateez.”

There were plenty of questions, plenty of explanations needed, and a full reveal of who they were, but Hongjoong was ready. He hoped the rest of them were too, but proof of their resolve came with them standing before him; that was proof enough of their readiness.

This was the starting point of their long journey. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twt [@moonswallowed](https://twitter.com/moonswallowed) (18+ pls) for more content!
> 
> thank you for reading!!


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